


Bits and Pieces

by FisherTaiga



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blackouts, Blow Jobs, Come as Lube, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Memory Loss, Recovering Memories, Smut, Sober Confessions, Stenny - Freeform, Swearing, Underage Drinking, but duh, don't want to spoil anything but, it's South Park, mild choking, so much swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 06:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FisherTaiga/pseuds/FisherTaiga
Summary: After a night of drinking, Stan blacks out. He knows something happened, but Kenny is determined not to talk about it unless Stan can remember it for himself.





	Bits and Pieces

The hammer pounding inside of Stan’s head woke him up. He didn’t dare open his eyes out of fear that the light would make the pain in his brain worse. He groaned and took in a slow, deep breath.

He knew right away that he was at Kenny’s house, more specifically, in Kenny’s bed. He wasn’t saying that the place smelled, but it had a very distinctive scent of weed and cigarettes. Kenny’s room always smelled sweet though, due to the incense he burned frequently to try to fight off the other smells that had seeped into the walls and carpeting of the entire place. And the pillow Stan was using smelled like Kenny himself, a mixture of nicotine, the oaky body spray he always used, and gasoline. Stan would have normally been embarrassed of himself for that, but he was far too hungover to be so self-conscious about the fact that he recognized his friend’s scent.

The black haired boy suddenly felt that unfortunately familiar feeling in his gut.

“Shit,” he muttered as he tried to gently lift his torso up from the bed. He had been lying on his stomach.

“Trash can to your left,” Kenny’s tired and quiet voice spoke out.

Stan groaned again and peeked one eye open. Sure enough, there was a bucket right there beside the bed, lined with a garbage bag. The boy leaned over the side of the bed just in time.

Amidst his stomach relieving itself of all the remaining poison he’d ingested the previous night, Stan felt a warm hand press down between his shoulder blades. Goosebumps rose up and down his arms and neck.

“There ya go. Just don’t hurl on my bed and we’re all good,” Kenny said, still using his quiet voice. He was either being considerate or was hung over as well.

Stan hovered over the bucket until he was sure there was nothing left in his stomach. He spit, trying to get the nasty taste of bile, Jamison, and some sickeningly sweet mystery flavor out of his mouth. Stan wiped his lips on the back of his hand and rolled around on the bed so that he was lying on his back.

His head started pounding with a renewed force and his body felt like Jell-O. “Fuuuck me,” he spat miserably.

The bed shook as Kenny plopped back down. He said something, but it was muffled because he’d buried his head in his pillow.

“Huh?” Stan grunted, not bothering with words. He carefully opened his eyes, glad to find that the window above Kenny’s bed was pretty well covered with the curtains. The room was a bit on the darker side despite it probably being close to noon already.

Kenny gave what sounded like a snort of laughter before he turned his head. “Good morning to you too.” The blonde had bags under his blue eyes, but they were bright like they always were.

Stan was pretty sure that wasn’t what he had said, but he was too distracted by the hangover to fight him on it. “How do you feel? Need to switch places?”

“Nah – I’m good. I wasn’t the one mixing last night.”

“What the fuck else did I have? All I remember was the bottle of Jamison we were working on…” Stan racked his brains – there were some serious black spots in his memories.

“We got halfway done with the Jamison bottle, then Bebe brought out some stuff she’d gotten to make cocktails – think the alcohol part was called Midori or something. Anyways, at one point you took the neon green bottle of liquor and started downing it – and that was all before Cartman got you to have a few shots of tequila. And then we left and finished that bottle of Jamison,” Kenny listed off.

“Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?” Stan muttered bitterly.

“Alcoholism,” Kenny quipped back – but he sounded like he was holding back a laugh. “Don’t worry, you’re still young. I’m sure your liver can take it.”

Stan couldn’t help but laugh, even though it hurt his head, “Shut up, Kenny, I know you’re not joking you asshole.” He sighed once his laughter stopped and rubbed his aching temples. Stan knew he had a drinking problem – as well as countless others if he were being honest – but Kenny was the only one who could make him laugh about it. It shouldn’t be funny, but it just was. “Seriously though, how bad was I last night?”

Kenny hesitated – which immediately made Stan start to worry. “Up to what point do you remember?”

“Oh god – what did I do? Did I strip again? Please tell me I didn’t strip in front of everyone again. Why do I always do that?!” Stan started stressing.

“No you didn’t strip – well, at least not until we got into bed. I managed to stop you from taking off your boxers at least,” Kenny laughed, “Didn’t want you waking up thinking I’d raped you.”

Stan looked down at his body beneath the blankets and sure enough, he was just wearing his boxers. He sighed at himself – what weird thing did his subconscious have with taking his clothes off? With all his issues with insecurity, you’d think he’d want to keep his clothes on.

“I don’t really remember leaving the party,” Stan remembered aloud, “But I have this feeling like I definitely did _something_ last night.” He had a vague feeling that he was forgetting something really important. Stan looked over at Kenny and was met with something very strange.

Kenny looked serious.

“What did I do?” Stan asked again, getting more and more worried.

“Well it didn’t happen at the party at least. Around midnight You-know-who showed up.”

Stan felt like he vaguely remembered seeing Wendy for a second before being whisked away by Kyle and Kenny.

“Cartman stayed, that fucking bitch, but me and Kyle left with you. Kyle had to go home anyways – his parents actually care enough to give him a curfew – so it was just you and me.”

“What happened?” Stan asked, feeling extremely nervous. He had no idea what he could have done that would make Kenny look so serious.

“It was…we were talking about some really personal stuff, and then some shit happened.”

“Dude, come on, just spit it out!” Stan groaned.

“Honestly, unless you can remember what happened, I’m not going to bring it up.” Kenny said, looking apologetic.

“What?! Come on, Kenny, don’t pull that shit. Just tell me what I did,” Stan was practically pleading. The anxiety was already wracking his insides.

Kenny hesitated, Stan could almost see the flurry of thoughts buzzing around in his head. “No dude. Sorry. I don’t mean to be a shithead, but if you can’t remember, maybe that’s your brain saying that you shouldn’t…and if you do remember, at least this way you can pretend it didn’t happen if you want to. I don’t want to just spring it all on you out because I’m pretty sure you’d freak out even more than you are right now.” Kenny explained.

Stan just shook his head. Jesus Christ, what had he gotten himself into? “Can I just promise that I won’t freak out?”

“Nope. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to be an asshole – sorry.” Kenny faked a big grin.

Stan punched him on the arm. Kenny didn’t seem phased at all.

“Alright, I’m gonna get up and hop in the shower. I’ve got work in,” Kenny shuffled around beneath his pillow and pulled out his cell phone, “An hour. You can sleep more if you want. Think it’s just Karen and Kevin here at the moment. Don’t think I saw my parent’s truck when we came in last night.”

Stan scowled at his friend, but nodded. “Yeah I’m gonna lay here for a bit longer – I’ll walk with you when you go to work though.”

Kenny grinned, “Oooh, I’ll have an escort today. Lucky me ~ All the girls at work will be jealous.”

Stan punched him on the arm again as the blonde pretty much rolled over top of him to get out of bed – but he couldn’t keep his scowl up. Fucking Kenny. One minute he was talking about life or death level shit, and the next he was screwing around.

Kenny grabbed some clothes up off the floor and headed out into the hallway, leaving the door slightly cracked. Stan thought he heard the blonde mutter something to himself once he thought he was out of earshot, but couldn’t make it out.

Stan closed his eyes, about to go over every detail of last night that he could remember, when he overheard voices in the hallway.

“Well, looks like you and your boyfriend finally woke up,” Kenny’s older brother’s voice taunted.

“Fuck off Kevin,” Kenny said sounding bored. “I gotta get ready for work.”

“No, you fuck off, fag, I was here first.”

“Call me that again, and I’ll kick your fucking face through that wall and leave you there to rot, asswipe. Move.” Kenny spat back.

Stan sat up in bed, not sure if it would be okay to go out there and back up his friend. He knew they were brothers, but they almost seemed to legitimately hate each other. He couldn’t imagine actually hating Shelly like that. Sure they argued about dumb stuff, but they had their good moments too.

Kevin didn’t answer back right away. He mumbled something under his breath, and then it sounded like he stalked back into his room. A few minutes later, he heard water running, and relaxed a bit.

He sat on the edge of Kenny’s bed for a few minutes attempting to remember the party. He remembered getting there with his friends, the bottle of Jamison tucked into his jacket until they reached Bebe’s house. He remembered getting Kyle to drink some of it, but after a few sips, the red-head quit, leaving the rest for he and Kenny to split since Cartman hated the stuff. He remembered passing the bottle back and forth with Kenny for quite a while before Clyde and Token came over and the four of them started talking about a bunch of weird shit. After that point though, everything kind of became a blur of people and colors and sounds, until suddenly the party was gone and he was cold and walking somewhere with a flash of blonde and orange that must have been Kenny and tipping the Jamison bottle to his lips again until everything went dark.

He tried to dig through the black patch in his memory but he knew from past experiences that his memories only came back to him when they wanted to. It was a futile effort unless something triggered his memory, so instead of trying any more he got up and looked around the room for his clothes. The room had gotten a bit colder since he’d left the warmth of Kenny’s blankets and was still only clad in his boxers. He found his pants and shoes right by the door, meaning those were the first things to come off his body last night. He shook his head at himself as he pulled his pants on and stepped into his shoes. He checked all his pockets, and found that his cell phone and wallet were still in their proper places.

Stan’s shirt was lying on top of Kenny’s dresser, where it had knocked over a Chimpokomon doll Kenny had held on to. It was the one with the chainsaw, though he couldn’t remember the name of it like he probably could have seven years ago. Stan pulled his shirt on, happy to find that it didn’t have any stains on it from the previous night, and saw his jacket crumpled up on the floor at the foot of the bed. He checked it for stains as well, but found none.

Now all that was missing was his beanie. He searched around the whole room, trying not to be too invasive in the process, but to no avail. When Kenny came back from his shower, Stan still hadn’t found it.

“Did I leave it somewhere, you think?” Stan asked. He had just looked under the bed and was now sitting on the floor by the gross barf bucket.

“No,” the blonde said as he rubbed a towel over his messy wet hair. He was wearing his work uniform – black jeans and a grey shirt that said _Spencer’s_ in red letters on the left side of his chest. He worked part time at the corner grocery store on weekends. “I think you were still wearing it when you went to bed. Did you check the blankets?”

The one place he hadn’t looked. He found it scrunched into a ball beneath the pillow he’d been using, and pulled it over his greasy black hair.

He groaned as he got up, “God, I feel like shit.” Stan still felt his head pounding relentlessly.

Kenny clapped him on the back, “Hey, at least you’re not the only one. That fucking Jamison gets me every time.” The blonde grabbed his hoodie from the floor and pulled it on over his work shirt. “You ready?”

Stan nodded.

The two boys left Kenny’s room and walked through the small house.

Karen, Kenny’s younger sister was sitting in the living room doing homework. She stared at Stan nervously as they walked by. He waved at her, but she only looked away. He’d always gotten the feeling that she was scared of him.

“I’ll be back tonight Karen. Call me if I need to pick up dinner,” Kenny called over his shoulder as he opened the front door.

Karen replied with a small “Bye” that was almost drowned out by the door slamming behind the two of them.

“Jesus it’s bright out here,” Stan complained as he shielded his eyes. It was a bright day, the noontime sun reflecting blindingly off of the fresher snow that lingered on the ground. It had snowed a bit last night apparently, but Stan couldn’t remember. “I wish I had my sunglasses at least,” he muttered.

“Just use your beanie,” Kenny said as he suddenly reached for Stan’s head with both hands and yanked the folded up edge of the dark-haired boy’s hat down past his eyes.

In that split second where Kenny’s hands had been on either side of Stan’s head, a memory surfaced. Stan swallowed hard as he remembered Kenny holding onto his face, the blonde’s hands shaking from either the cold or emotion as he yelled at Stan. Kenny was a mere inches away from his face, looking sad and concerned and angry, yelling at him. Telling him that he wasn’t useless. Telling him that he wasn’t a waste of space, or a burden. Telling him that he was important to all of them, all of his friends, and to him. He was important to Kenny, who had only a few people in the whole fucking world that he truly cared about.

Stan felt a bit dizzy as he pulled the beanie from off of his eyes. Kenny had continued walking ahead, not realizing that Stan had stopped.

The black-haired boy started walking again, taking bigger steps to try to catch up to his friend.

He went through the memory again, and his stomach did an uncomfortable flip. So his low self-esteem had made an appearance last night, apparently. Seeing Wendy had probably prompted his more depressing feelings, and the alcohol had made him talkative. Kenny must have gotten mad at him for tearing himself down. Kenny must have also been pretty drunk too, because while Kenny wasn’t afraid to call out your shit on a normal day-to-day basis, the way he’d said those things to him sounded emotional and raw. Kenny didn’t often let his real emotions out, usually opting to keep them veiled with his usual brand of sarcasm and his indifferent smile.

Stan’s depression and Kenny’s emotional outburst was a little embarrassing, but similar things had happened before – that little incident was definitely not what Kenny was trying to protect him from.

Stan rubbed his head, and hoped the memory of whatever he had done would come to him soon. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the uncertainty. Kenny was good at playing it off, but he had looked so serious earlier…Stan was sure something important had happened.

Another memory resurfaced the next day, thanks to some…interesting news. Cartman had come over to Stan’s house for some video games, and in the middle of a round, blurted out that he and Wendy had hooked up after the party.

At first Stan felt nothing. The news had been so unexpected, though everyone had known that since their breakup, Cartman had been talking to Wendy a lot. The thought of Wendy actually hooking up with Cartman at a party – the same Wendy who had used sex as a way to manipulate him for the past three years of their relationship, who had held it over his head like a dog treat to make him do as she pleased – it just seemed too unreal.

Stan just started laughing. He laughed so hard that he couldn’t stop. Cartman just sat there awkwardly while Stan clutched his sides and laughed until his voice went hoarse. And in the midst of that laughter, another memory came to him.

He and Kenny sitting in the small swings of the playground in the middle of town, talking animatedly, their voices a bit slurred from the drinking. They were passing the bottle of whiskey back and forth, taking shots to warm their bodies from the cold. Kenny leaned over to set the bottle down on the crappy rubber flooring of the playground, but when he tried to sit back upright, he’d lost his balance and fell backwards out of the swing. Kenny was lying on his back, his legs still caught in the swing. The blonde had started to laugh once his lungs filled back up with air.

Stan leaned over to try to help his friend up, also stifling laughter, but somehow he also ended up on the ground, laughing hysterically. Stan couldn’t remember how long they stayed on the ground like that, rolling around, laughing at each other, but he did remember saying something once the laughing started to die out.

“You make me fucking happy, dude.”

Stan couldn’t remember if Kenny said anything back, but he remembered the sappy words coming from his mouth. He was always kind of a sap when he drank – quick to tell everyone his deepest opinions of them – but his words, while sappy, had been true. Sure Kyle also made him happy, but for some reason when he was with Kenny it was different somehow. It was like none of his problems seemed to matter anymore. He could truly forget the shit that was bothering him and just be. Sometimes just existing pleasantly was enough for him, and being around Kenny made that possible. He didn’t feel like he had to hide the darker parts of his personality from Kenny, like he sometimes felt obligated to do with Kyle. Kyle got uncomfortable when Stan’s depression and anxiety made their dramatic appearances, but Kenny didn’t bat an eye. Kenny just understood.

This also didn’t seem to be the memory Stan was hoping to uncover, but at least it was something. He now knew that they stopped at the playground at some point before heading back to Kenny’s place.

Eventually Stan was able to stop laughing enough to tell Cartman to “Go for it.” Because as much as his stint with Wendy had hurt him, it had almost been a fucking year since they’d broken up. If Cartman wanted to involve himself with that mess, he was welcome to it. Eric was a shit friend, but at least he’d been upfront about what had happened. He hadn’t tried to hide it, or flaunt it in front of his face – and for Cartman, that was a big step.

“Cool,” was all Cartman replied with, and they eventually continued their game.

The third memory surfaced a few days later. It was a few days into the next school week. Most of their class had recovered from Bebe’s party, but they were still talking constantly about it and the rumors about Wendy and Eric. Kyle and Kenny had tried to keep Stan from hearing them, but Stan eventually told them about what Cartman had said the other day. Kyle looked shocked that the rumors were actually true, and Kenny just looked pissed off. Kenny remained angry looking most of the day until Stan eventually told him to chill.

“I actually think I’m okay with it, dude,” Stan confessed. “I’m just done, I don’t need the drama anymore…”

Kenny slung an arm over his shoulders as they walked to the locker room. They had football practice today, and Kenny was actually able to go now that he’d finally gotten his schedule at his other part-time job worked out. “I still want to punch him though,” Kenny muttered.

“Who doesn’t?” Stan replied. He glanced over at the scrawny blonde hanging off of his broader shoulders. Kenny, true to his word, hadn’t brought up anything about Stan’s missing memory or what happened after the party. All he’d heard him say over the past few days was to Kyle about how he and Stan had ended up hungover at his place the next day.

“I still can’t believe that it’s real,” Kyle repeated. He couldn’t stop shaking his head, “I just can’t see anyone – let alone a girl like Wendy – wanting to be with that asshole. How drunk did she have to be?!”

The three of them eventually changed topics as they got to the locker room and started changing. Kyle was talking to Kenny about tutoring him in Economics, and Stan had kind of tuned out. He had just pulled off his shirt when a raised, straight scar on the underside of his arm caught his eye.

Stan suddenly remembered getting to Kenny’s house, tired and cold and wobbly. Stan was holding onto the back of Kenny’s hoodie as they stumbled their way through the darkened living room. When they got to Kenny’s room, the blonde turned on a dim lamp on his desk and had started to get his bed cleaned off so they could both crash there. The moment Stan had gotten into the familiar territory of Kenny’s room, he’d started stripping his clothes off. Shoes and pants first, then jacket. As he started to pull his shirt off, it had gotten stuck on his clumsy arms.

Kenny had to help him pull it all the way off, but when Stan’s head was finally freed from the fabric, he found that Kenny had kept ahold of his raised arm. His eyes fixed on something, once again wide with concern and anger. “Where’d you get that?” He’d asked.

“Hmm?” Stan asked grabbing at his arm and twisting it a bit to see what Kenny was looking at. “The scar?”

Kenny nodded quietly.

Stan laughed and slurred, “’Member when we would…we snuck into that guys’s farm? That one time I got stuck in the barbed wire, and fucking Cartman just stood there and laughed while Kyle freaked out ‘cuz of the blood, and you used your sweet ass knife to cut me loose? I got snagged pretty hard on the wire – it cut through all my layers.”

Kenny gently ran his thumb over the scar, which sent shivers down Stan’s spine. Kenny’s eyes lost some of their intensity, “Yeah, I remember now…I thought for a second that...okay never mind, I’m tired.”

Stan nodded and rubbed at his eyes, “Me too.” Stan stepped forward and plopped onto Kenny’s bed, wearing just his boxers despite the room being cold.

He didn’t remember anything after that except waking up, but he realized now why Kenny had been so upset over the scar, where last night he had been too drunk and tired to notice. As Stan looked at the scar now, it was pretty straight, and he could see how Kenny might have mistaken it for something more…self-inflicted.

Stan had only ever cut himself purposely the one time, and he didn’t like it. It had been during his phase when he hung out with the Goth kids. He tried it because he noticed the scars on Henrietta’s arm’s and wondered if it would ease his pain like she said it did for her – but it didn’t. It just hurt, even though it hadn’t been a deep enough cut to even leave a scar. Kenny had been the only one he ever told about trying to cut himself.

Kenny must have saw that scar and thought it was the scar from that time, or that Stan had tried doing it again.

Stan quickly threw his undershirt on and started putting on his padding. He glanced over at Kenny, who was still talking to Kyle. Stan noticed that his shirt was off, revealing his pale, lean torso. Stan quickly turned back to face his locker. He’d been catching himself doing that lately – staring at Kenny. From what he’d gathered from his blackout memories, whatever had happened the other night, Kenny was definitely at the center of it, but Stan just couldn’t figure out what had happened. It was torture.

When he looked at Kenny recently, he felt like it was right there, on the tip of his brain. It felt as though he’d figured something out, or made a huge breakthrough the other night, but Stan just couldn’t remember what it was. All he knew was that it was important and heavy and it involved Kenny. He was getting tired of just waiting for it to come back to him, waiting for something to trigger it.

All through practice, Stan stayed pretty zoned out. No one noticed – at least, they didn’t say anything about it if they did.

Stan decided that he was just going to ask Kenny to tell him – and this time not take no for an answer. He’d remembered about 60 percent of the night, but that last, most important chunk was stubbornly eluding him. Nothing had triggered it so far and he was sure that nothing would now, unless Kenny helped him along.

Practice finally ended, but Stan couldn’t tell you what had gone on or even what he’d been doing the whole time. He’d been too preoccupied. Kenny had to jam right afterwards to make it to his other part time job at the gas station so Stan decided he’d try to catch him after work. It would probably be a little late, but he didn’t care. He needed to know what had happened between them, what had changed – because while Kenny was doing a bang-up job of acting like nothing had happened, Stan could still feel it.

Something about the way those memories felt – heavy, and leading – mixed with the way Kenny seemed to be stressing with his silence on the matter that things were just as normal as ever, convinced Stan that something had indeed changed. He was now a lot more aware of his blonde friend and his actions, his presence, his body. Looking at him made Stan’s gut feel hollow, as if there was something there it could sense, but his eyes couldn’t see. He needed that goddamned memory or else it was going to drive him insane.

Stan lingered in the parking lot of the gas station where Kenny worked a few nights out of the week. If Stan remembered correctly he normally got off work around midnight.

It was only eleven though.

Stan couldn’t stand being alone in his house any longer so he’d left to wait for Kenny, not really looking at the time. He was staying with his Dad this week, but Randy had gone out drinking with his buddies and that usually meant that the man wouldn’t get home till four or five in the morning. The large house he’d grown up in felt so quiet with just the two of them there. Mom let him keep the house when they split up – she moved into one of the newer apartment buildings that had popped up in the last couple of years – and Shelly was living in Denver going to college, leaving just Stanley alone with his parents. One week with his mother, one week with his father.

Staying with his dad offered a lot more freedom, but usually it wasn’t worth seeing his dad in such a weird place in his life.

So he sat in his dad’s car listening to songs on his iPhone while he waited for Kenny to be freed from work so that they could get this memory business out of the way. The music was the only thing keeping Stan’s guts from twisting into knots. He was fucking nervous and the clock seemed to be standing still.

He finally shot Kenny a text.

Stan: _What time u get off work?_

A few more songs passed before his phone vibrated at him.

Kenny: _1230 – y? Wanna chill r somethin?_

Stan hesitated for a second before typing back.

Stan: _Yeah. Any way you can get off early? i’m actually outside ur work right now…_

Kenny: _Thought I recognized your car_

Kenny: _Stalker_

Kenny: _lol_

Kenny: _You ok?_

Stan: _Mostly. There’s just some shit I need to talk to you about and I’m pretty fucking anxious about it._

Kenny: _What kinda shit?_

Stan: _Memory shit._

Stan stared at his phone for a few minutes. Kenny didn’t reply. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel a little too fast to mesh with the slower song that had started playing. Two more songs passed without a word from Kenny. Stan was debating whether or not he should just go into the damn gas station to try to corner his friend, when he noticed the blonde’s familiar outline walking towards his car.

Kenny wore his signature orange hoodie beneath his neon green, reflective vest that he wore as the uniform. He was walking slowly closer, his hands tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie.

Stan got out of the car and stood behind the driver’s side door as his friend approached.

“Hey,” Kenny called out. He came to a stop on the other side of Stan’s door. Despite the dim yellowish lights, Stan could see that his friend looked worried. “You okay?” he asked warily.

Stan gripped the top edge of the car door. “Kinda – just going a little crazy is all,” Stan tried to smile, but wasn’t sure how convincing it looked. “I’ve been trying to remember what happened all week, but all I’ve gotten are little bits and pieces, and this weird feeling in my gut – like I’ve figured out the answer to a question I can’t remember. Please, Kenny, just tell me what happened. I’m driving myself insane.” Stan’s grip on the car door was so tight that his knuckles were a stark white that stood out even on his pale skin.

Kenny stood there for a second, biting on his lower lip, as he often did when he was thinking hard about something. Eventually his teeth released his lip and his leaned against Stan’s car, his arms still buried in his front pocket. “First, tell me what you’ve remembered,” he started.

Stan let out a slow breath, relieved that Kenny hadn’t straight up denied telling him. “Well I remembered the first bit that morning – you pulled my beanie down over my eyes and it made me remember you holding onto my face and yelling nice things at me…I don’t remember what I’d said to make you so worked up, but I’m guessing it was my low self-esteem rearing its ugly head.” Stan’s eyes darted to the floor. “I remember all the stuff you told me – that I wasn’t useless or a waste of space, that I mattered.” _To you_ , Stan left off, _That I was one of the few people you actually cared about._ He remembered so vividly now the way Kenny’s hands had shook, the fierce and sad look in his eyes.

Stan glanced back up at Kenny to find him staring out at the parking lot. “You saw Wendy as we left the party…you started talking about how she’d tell you how stupid you were and shit. I got a little mad.”

Stan smiled a little. “Thanks…” He took another breath and continued. “Well, the next day when Cartman came over I remembered a bit more. He just sorta blurted out that he and Wendy had hooked up after we left and I just started laughing hysterically. It made me remember being at the little park a bit later that night, and both of us falling out of the swings at one point, laughing our heads off. We were on the ground for a long-ass time, and when we finally started to calm down, I let the alcohol release my inner sap, and told you how you make me happy…which is true by the way, but still super corny to say.” Stan hoped the night was dark enough to hide the slight blush that had crept onto his face.

“And then my memory skips to the end of the night. While I was changing for practice earlier, I noticed a scar on my arm from when we were kids, and I remembered you freaking out about it when drunk me was trying to strip. I’m guessing you thought it was self-inflicted because of how straight it is. I remember us getting to your house, and pretty much the moment I got to your room I started stripping – which, while embarrassing, not anything worth freaking me out about. So whatever the hell happened that night that you’re not telling me about, is somewhere between us being at the park, and us getting to your house,” Stan finally let his rambling come to a halt.

Kenny finally met his eyes again. The blond let out a slow breath before finally speaking, “Well, after the park, we walked to Starks Pond. If you don’t mind waiting for me to close up, we can go over there and see if it’ll help you remember…”

Stan could tell that Kenny was hesitant. It didn’t seem like he was afraid of what Stan might remember, but he was definitely uneasy about it. Stan could see this, but he was desperate to know what was really going on. “Okay,” Stan answered, his grip on the car door finally loosening.

He waited in the parking lot for another 45 minutes until Kenny was finally done with his shift and the lights in the gas station dimmed. It was a slightly awkward drive to the edge of town, but at least it was quick. It was a short walk from the little paved parking lot to the pond, the winding narrow pathways taking them through the scattered pine trees. They used their cell phones as flashlights until they reached the open clearing of the pond. The moon was a few days past being full, but it still gave off enough light to see shapes and outlines in the night.

Kenny stopped them once they reached their usual bench. As kids, they used it as a safe zone for whatever game they’d been playing, and as they got older, it just became theirs. Whether they were going fishing and needed a place to leave some of their stuff, or had a bottle of something they wanted to drink away from any supervision, the bench had been their place. Stan and Kenny had spent a lot of time here talking and drinking over the past few years, so it wasn’t really a surprise that they came here the night of the party.

Stan stood in front of the bench and looked out at the still water as it reflected the moonlight. He looked around for something, anything that could jog his memory, but nothing was coming to him.

“Anything?” Kenny asked slowly.

Stan shook his head, “No.” He sighed and rubbed at his temples, “This is so frustrating. I just want to know what I did.

Kenny stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket, “Usually when you remember stuff, it comes back to you through seeing something, or doing something, right?”

Stan turned towards his friend. “Yes, usually. Hearing something works too sometimes,” he offered.

“So if you really want to remember I can probably do something that will help, but…”

“But what?” Stan asked carefully.

“I don’t mind acting like everything is normal. We just had one of our usual drunk nights and we can move on. There’s nothing for you to be frustrated or anxious about,” Kenny said.

Stan took a step closer to his friend, “But I am anxious and frustrated. And it’s not fair for me to force you to act like nothing happened just because I can’t remember. It’s probably bothered you all week, just like it’s been bothering me. Just tell me what happened!”

Kenny plopped down onto the creeky wooden bench and met Stan’s gaze. “Sit,” he sighed, patting at the empty space beside him in resignation.

Stan obeyed and sat down next to his friend, the anticipation twisting his gut into knots.

He didn’t have to wait long though. The moment his ass hit the cold seat, Kenny had slid a hand on the far side of Stan’s jaw and pulled his face towards his own.

Kenny kissed him, and not chastely either. Kenny’s lips were soft and warm and moving with purpose against Stan’s own lips, which in comparison were probably chapped from the cold and frozen in place out of shock.

It didn’t last long. Kenny ended it pretty quickly, releasing Stan’s lips and letting his hand fall away slowly from the black-haired boy’s face. Kenny opened his eyes hesitantly trying to see Stan’s reaction. “Did that…jog anything?” He asked carefully.

Stan could only stare at his friend, his eyes glued to Kenny’s lips. His mind was racing, trying to understand what just happened, or remember what had happened, but nothing was coming to him.

He finally met Kenny’s nervous eyes and shook his head, “No…”

“Oh goddamnit, why the hell did I think that would work?” Kenny groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair then slowly dragged them down his face, just staring at Stan’s confused look. “This is why I wanted to fucking let you remember it on your own – now you’re confused and freaking out and I’m gonna end up fucking up the explanation and this is not how I wanted this to go…”

Stan bit at the inside of his cheek and watched his friend as he rambled. “I’m not freaking out,” Stan said slowly. He turned a bit in his seat to better face Kenny. “Just…just explain from the beginning. How did getting here to the pond end up with us…” Stan wasn’t freaking out, but he was a little confused. Kenny had thought that kissing him would jog his memory so that meant that at some point that night they’d kissed…but Stan had no idea how it progressed to that. Sure from what he’d remembered of the night, they’d both been drunk and emotional and sappy, but was that all it would take to get Stan to make out with a guy? With one of his best friends?

Kenny sighed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. “We were just talking at first – both of us plastered – and then you suddenly got quiet. I thought you were starting to feel sick, but then you asked me a question…”

Stan took a quiet breath. “What did I ask?”

“You asked me what it was like to be with a guy and…well, when I gave you my answer you said you didn’t think you’d mind it as long as that person made you happy.”

Stan’s memory of the park sprang to mind and his heartbeat quickened.

Kenny continued, still hiding his face in his hands, “I then reminded you of what you said by the swings…that I made you happy…and then…” Kenny let his voice trail off.

“We kissed?” Stan tried to finish Kenny’s sentence, even though his own voice felt like it would give out as well.

Kenny didn’t quite lift his head out of his hands but he shifted enough so that he could see Stan with one of his blue eyes, “There’s a bit more to it than that but…”

“But what?” Stan asked quietly.

“Fuck,” Kenny swore. “Fuck me, this is hard. I’m not used to saying shit like this while sober.”

Stan was about to say something along the lines of _take your time_ but halfway through Kenny’s sentence that final missing piece came flooding back to him.

_“Well fuck me, I’m fucking shitfaced,” Kenny laughed as the two boys stumbled through the dark and familiar pathway towards their bench._

_Stan giggled as he swung the empty Jamison bottle back and forth, “I’m a lil’ wobbly. Least I don’t have work t’morrow like you.”_

_“Fuck me,” Kenny repeated a bit more bitterly._

_Stan noticed how bright the moon was reflecting off the frozen lake and smiled to himself. “Betcha I can chuck this to the moon…the one on the ice I mean.”_

_Kenny took a break from grumbling about work and turned over his shoulder to watch Stan. “If you fall in I’m gonna let your drunk ass drown.”_

_“No you won’t,” Stan quipped back immediately. He dramatically leaned back, trying to look like a pro pitcher in a World Series game, but not quite succeeding. He launched the Jamison bottle out onto the lake. The two boys watched as it vanished into the darkness. They heard it plunk onto the ice and slide but wherever it landed, it hadn’t quite made it to the moon’s reflection._

_“Damn.” Stan turned back to see Kenny laughing._

_“Wasn’t even close!”_

_“Oh shut up – keep walking Kenny,” Stan grumbled._

_Kenny laughed breathlessly the rest of the way to their bench. He sighed happily as he plopped to the hard surface of their familiar bench, “Ohh it feels good to just sit down. If I throw up in the morning I’m blaming you and that goddamn bottle.”_

_Stan just smiled and sat beside his friend. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He felt like he was going to float away, and it was a great feeling. All this thoughts were a jumbled mess, everything swimming back and forth through his mind all at once. He thought about Wendy, their relationship, the good memories, the bad ones all at the same time but then they were replaced by he and Kyle and Kenny and Cartman and their grand childhood adventures. The pond always made him remember childhood things – days spent roaming the woods, playing all kinds of weird games that usually stemmed from Cartman’s fucked up imagination; nights they spent camped out in tents gorging on sweets and soda and playing with their PSP’s before they suddenly weren’t cool anymore; the first time he and Kenny got drunk together when they were probably still way too young; the night Kenny came out as Bi to the group, and Cartman immediately laughed and said he knew it, and Kyle smacked their fat friend and told Kenny he was happy that Kenny could tell them all something so important._

_Stan tried to remember his reaction but couldn’t really – just that he was kind of surprised but also a little jealous that Kenny was so confident about who he was that he was able to tell people whereas Stan had always felt so vague about himself. Maybe that vagueness was what made him cling so tightly to his feelings, his obsession of Wendy._

_“You okay? Need to hurl?” Kenny asked, pulling Stan out of his floating thoughts and back to the bench overlooking the iced-over pond._

_Stan opened his eyes and lifted his head. He felt fuzzy and wasted but not sick – at least not yet anyways. “Can I ask you something?” Stan suddenly had questions._

_“Sure,” Kenny replied without a thought._

_“Have you been with any guys? You never talk about it, except when you’re joking…or at least I think you’re joking,” Stan rambled a bit._

_Kenny was quiet, and for a second Stan thought he wouldn’t answer._

_“Yeah…two. Why?” Kenny sounded quiet, a little nervous, so unlike his usual boisterous self._

_“I just – Is it different? Than being with a girl, I mean – or is it the same to you because you like both?” Stan wasn’t sure if his question made any sense._

_“Different,” Kenny answered with very little pause. He ran his hands though his greasy blonde hair, “but pretty similar I guess. Girls are a bit harder to read, but guys – particularly the ones that aren’t open about what they want – are harder to connect with. Both are difficult in their own ways, but…” Kenny let his sentence trail off._

_Stan thought about it for a second, waiting to see if Kenny would continue, but when he didn’t his own thoughts started to blurt themselves out. “I think about it sometimes. I’m curious I guess, but also, I probably just think too much. Like, I feel like it wouldn’t be a big deal to me if some guy asked me out. I’d probably give it a try – I mean, after all I went through with Wendy, it couldn’t be any worse than that. Nothing could be worse than that, so why not? If the guy made me happy, why should it matter.”_

_Kenny didn’t say anything at first. Stan looked over to see the blonde just looking at him, one hand gripping at the back of his neck. Stan almost asked if he’d said something wrong, thinking he’d somehow offended his friend, but the look on Kenny’s face looked more like an expression of surprise than anger._

_“You think that…that if someone, a guy can make you happy, you could be with them?” He stumbled a bit over his words – he didn’t sound mad or offended. He sounded like he was thinking, if that made any sense. It sounded like his brain was working so fast that his words had to fight over themselves to be heard._

_“Yeah,” Stan confirmed, suddenly remembering his words from earlier in the night._

_So did Kenny. The blonde swallowed hard and let the hand on his neck slide into his lap. “You said I make you happy earlier, right? You meant that right?” His voice sounded so smooth, so sure. Stan felt it down his spine like a chill, only warm._

_Stan nodded. It was true, he’d meant it and not just because of the funny situation. Kenny made him happy._

_Kenny didn’t give Stan a chance to resist even if he wanted to. In an instant he’d reached out and pulled Stan’s face to his and everything was blurry because the booze always made things blurry, but it was good. Kenny’s lips were warm in spite of the night’s chill and his breath smelled like whiskey, but so did Stan’s so it didn’t matter. Stan’s hands reached out for Kenny’s hoodie and used his grip to inch himself closer. Kenny helped by slipping a hand on the black-haired boy’s waist and pulling him forward._

_Stan was kissing back, not thinking, not worrying. Just letting himself float. He felt Kenny suck his lower lip lightly between his teeth, the little scraping feeling so exhilarating, so playful, so right._

_And then Stan was being pushed back, Kenny’s lean arms, stronger than they appeared, grabbing onto his shoulders and stretched out between them._

_“Shitshitshitshit,” Kenny panicked, “I shouldn’t have done that – you’re fucking drunk and I’m drunk and just taking advantage of you – fuck what am I doing?” The blonde sounded like he was going to break._

_“I’m sorry,” Stan said quietly, “Was it bad?” His drink-clumsy hand reached up and grabbed at one of Kenny’s arms that were still holding his shoulders._

_Kenny’s eyes snapped up to stare at him and he let out a choked, “No!” he let his arms fall to his lap, Stan’s hand still tightly gripping the fabric of Kenny’s hoodie. “That’s not what I meant. It was good. It was so good. God, you have no idea how long…ugh, I just. I shouldn’t have done that to you…”_

_Stan felt like he was floating, his stomach doing summersaults. “Why not?”_

_He felt the air around Kenny freeze – though maybe that was just the snow that had started to fall rather lazily around them. “Because,” Kenny started slowly, “We’ve been drinking, and – “_

_“I liked it,” Stan interrupted. The Jamison in his system giving him a sudden surge of bravery. “I liked kissing you. I think I liked it a bit too much, actually.” Stan’s face bloomed red in embarrassment, but that didn’t stop him from pulling Kenny’s arm by the grip he still had on his sleeve into his lap. Stan may have been horny lately, but he doubted he would’ve gotten aroused by kissing his friend if he didn’t actually like it._

_Kenny made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and Stan saw an almost_ hungry _look flash across Kenny’s eyes before they darted back up to meet Stan’s eyes._

_“Stan,” Kenny said pleadingly. He pulled his hand away and up against his chest, “Jesus Christ, Stan.”_

_Whatever else he was going to say was drowned out because Stan had crossed the distance between them and initiated the kiss again, practically falling off the bench in the process. Kenny’s arms wrapped around Stan’s neck to stabilize him, while also leaning back to pull the black-haired boy over him. It was a bit awkward as the bench was so small, but neither boy minded the cold creaky wood beneath them so much as the warmth between them exploded._

_Stan had one hand braced against the arm of the bench while the other was wrapped around Kenny’s waist. He found that beneath the taste of whiskey and nicotine, Kenny tasted sweet._

_This kiss was much more clumsy, much more impatient than the first, and somehow it was better. Stan could feel his whole body igniting, could feel Kenny shifting and pulling, trying to get as many points of contact as possible. He grazed his teeth against Kenny’s lip, trying to imitate what Kenny had done previously, and felt the blonde make a tempting sound in the back of his throat._

_Kenny was suddenly pushing him up, and for a split second Stan was afraid he was going to be pushed away again, but his fear was unwarranted, as Kenny was now straddling Stan’s lap, needing more contact, more friction. The blonde was holding tight to Stan’s shoulder with one hand while the other wound itself into the thick black hair above the nape of his neck._

_Stan held onto Kenny’s sides, his fingers edging beneath his hoodie seeking out skin and finding it._

_It was all passion and need, and Stan knew Kenny could feel the erection he was now sporting, and also knew that Kenny probably didn’t mind since the blonde was also hard. Stan could_ feel _Kenny, his hips ground lightly against him and couldn’t help it when his own hips bucked upward, the explosive feeling of the friction sending spots into his vision._

 _Stan broke his lips away just enough to mutter a satisfied “Oh_ fuck _me,” which had been his favorite phrase as of late, and now was realizing that the meaning might be altered a bit by the situation they were in._

_Kenny ground down against Stan’s erection again and replied with a heavy, “Don’t tempt me.”_

_Stan smirked a little as he placed a little kiss against Kenny’s throat. He meant to say something witty or sexy but the booze was inhibiting his words so nothing came out. He went to bring his lips back to Kenny’s but the blonde had pulled a bit too far away. He looked up to see Kenny just staring at him, the hungry look gone from his eyes and replaced by something scarily tender. Stan could do nothing but stare back at the blonde, remembering that he’d seen this look in his friend’s eyes before but couldn’t quite place the moment._

_“You’re totally not going to remember any of this tomorrow, and I’m going to feel real shitty, you bastard,” Kenny sounded like he was trying to be his usual sarcastic self, but Stan heard the realness there. Felt the weight._

_“I’ll remember,” Stan said really hoping he would. He didn’t want this to be forgotten like a lot of his drunken nights, didn’t want this to be lost to the depths of his disease-addled brain._

_Kenny groaned and brought his hands up to his face, “Goddamnit, you better remember this because I’ve been in fucking love with you since we were kids, and none of this is fucking fair.”_

_Stanley froze, and he felt Kenny stiffen there in his lap._

_“Shit. Nonononono, I didn’t say that, you didn’t hear that,” Kenny started to panic. He quickly pulled himself off Stan’s lap and stood up. “Actually, forget everything. This isn’t real. I’m fucking stupid and you’re plastered and we need to go.”_

_But Stan wasn’t listening._

_He reached out a hand and grabbed at Kenny’s wrist before he could disappear into the night. He stayed seated because he was sure that if he tried to stand up he’d fall to the snow that had started to build up around them. Kenny was right about Stan being plastered, but Stan had only heard that first bit, before the panicking had started._

_“You love me?” He asked. His voice cracked. The world was spinning._

_Kenny was silent. He wasn’t looking at Stan, just down at the small point of contact between them. He was staring at Stan’s wrist, as if something interesting was written there and he was trying to read it. “If I do, what would you say?”_

_Stan’s whole mind went blank. What could he say to that? His friend, his best friend, really, was in love with him? His heart was pounding fast in his chest and this time it wasn’t the whiskey or the adrenaline._

_The only words that came to mind were, “I’m so sorry.”_

_Kenny’s head snapped up and he looked like he’d just been slapped. Stan knew immediately that those had been the wrong words._

_“Wait I – “ he tried to explain further, but he saw the hurt in Kenny’s eyes turning to anger._

_“I don’t want your pity, Stan. Don’t be sorry – I’m not sorry for how I fucking feel,” the blonde pulled his wrist out of Stan’s grasp. “You’re the one who wanted to fucking know, you can’t be sorry about it.”_

_“I didn’t mean it like – “ but Stan had attempted to stand up._

_His plan had been to grab Kenny and make him listen to the rest of his words, but the movement made his stomach churn, and then the ground came rising up to meet him. His earlier prediction had been correct. Trying to move had resulted in him on the ground, and not gracefully. Luckily the snow had built up enough to break his fall, but now he was freezing and the world was starting to dim and he was groaning._

_“Shit,” Kenny swore and tried to help him up, “Come on you can’t pass out yet – I can’t carry you all the way back to my house.”_

_Stan found himself back up on his feet, feeling a bit queasy, but mostly just tired. Kenny had pulled one of his arms over his shoulders and was propping him up._

_“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tried to continue. The two of them tried taking a few wobbly steps._

_Kenny didn’t reply, just waited. Stan could still feel him fuming behind that silence._

_“I’m sorry that I didn’t know…that you couldn’t tell me. I’m a shit friend for not knowing,” Stan hoped that this made more sense and wouldn’t anger the blonde anymore. He felt bad. What kind of friend was he if he couldn’t see that his friend was hiding something so important? He and Kenny had always been so honest with each other, and he hated knowing that he was the reason Kenny couldn’t be exactly that with him for so long._

_“Oh…” Kenny seemed determined not to look at his friend. “I mean, how could you know if I didn’t tell you? I’m very good with secrets…especially my own.”_

_Stanley swallowed hard, “But it’s always been different with you and me…well, for me anyways. We were always real, I guess. I didn’t have to hide anything or censor myself, but you were this whole time. I said sorry because I hate thinking that I was the reason you couldn’t tell me something.”_

_They walked in silence for a little while, eventually leaving the park. They took the short cut following the train tracks to get to Kenny’s house. They were a few more minutes away when Kenny finally said something._

_“I tried so hard not to be in love with you. I hated myself for it. I wanted to forget, to move on and be able to tell you someday and laugh about it and act like it was no big deal…but I couldn’t. I tried fucking around and I tried distancing myself, but nothing fucking worked and now I’ve probably fucked up our whole thing because you said something like_ that _and gave me an opening and I didn’t really know what I was doing until suddenly you were_ hard _and –“_

_“Kenny?” Stan interrupted._

_His friend finally looked up at him._

_“Nothing’s been ruined, and I definitely don’t want you to hate yourself because of me. I really liked…well,_ all _of that earlier, and hearing you say that you love me is…overwhelming but in a good way if that makes sense – but I think we both need to sleep and possibly puke before we figure out what any of this means. My brain is about to stop working.”_

_Kenny nodded and bit at his lip, trying to hide a little smile. “Okay.”_

The memory was veiled as if he were remembering it through a thin sheet of plastic, but it was there, and Stan suddenly understood his body’s uneasy feelings the past week.

Kenny was still rambling beside him, fingers dragging down his face as he did so.

Stanley let out a long hard sigh and ran his hands through his hair, tearing off his beanie in the process. He looked over at his friend who looked pretty embarrassed, which was a rare sight.

“My brain started working again,” Stanley announced, interrupting Kenny’s current ramble about jogging Stan’s memory by hitting him over the head with a Jamison bottle.

Kenny looked sideways at his friend, “You remembered something?”

Stan nodded, “All of it I think…it’s a little blurry, but I think I got all the goo – er, _important_ parts.”

Kenny bit at his lip, “Okay, so what finally triggered it?”

Stan’s face got hot, “Well, you said ‘Fuck me’ and it immediately made me remember you st-straddling my lap and saying ‘Don’t tempt me’ all sexy-like.”

“Oh Jesus, please tell me you remember more than just me being a slut,” Kenny groaned into his hands. He was hiding his face again.

“If you’re a slut, so am I...I was the one that instigated it,” Stan said remembering pulling the blonde’s hand to his crotch. He continued, “But yeah, that was the first image that came up, but then the rest of what happened before and then after played out in my head…”

Kenny swallowed hard enough for Stan to actually hear it. “And are you going to take anything back?”

Stan scooted closer to his friend so that their knees and shoulders were touching, but he didn’t dare do anything more. After remembering everything, and realizing he _had_ forgotten it all when he definitely didn’t want to, he didn’t want Kenny to think this was a shallow or easy thing for him.

“I’m not…are you? If you hate me for forgetting, I would understand…”

Kenny looked over, again peeking out from his splayed fingers, “I couldn’t hate you even if I tried, asshole.”

Stan smiled. The insult had sounded endearing, rather than accusatory.

“But no…I’m not taking anything back. I was super drunk, but I meant everything I said,” Kenny continued slowly. He let his hands drop from his face and let them sit in his lap, where they fidgeted and turned over each other. Stan wanted to reach out for them, but didn’t want to mess anything up. Everything was still in the air, he had no idea what the fallout was going to be.

“So, now what?” Stan asked carefully, “What do you want to do?” I mean, Kenny had said he loved him, and Stan loved his friend, even if it wasn’t quite romantically the same way, it was still love. And the physical attraction hadn’t been a problem, considering Stan had gotten hard just making out with him. They could start going out? Stan didn’t think that sounded like a bad idea, but Kenny had more than once ranted about how relationships sucked, and he wasn’t sure if he really meant that or had just been upset over something at those times and wanted to say screw it all.

“I don’t really know,” Kenny admitted with a slow breath. “I never dared to think we could actually…” he let the thought drop. “I mean, your mind was always occupied by _her_ even when we were kids that I never thought there was a chance, even now…”

Stan leaned back and looked up at the sky. There were a few clouds obscuring some of the stars, but the shrinking moon was sending bright, gentle light out on the woods and the pond.

“The only relationship experience I have is bad experience, so I don’t mind if we don’t label ourselves yet, or just want to figure things out as we go…I just know that I don’t want to pretend nothing happened,” Stan said, finally deciding to go for it, and take one of Kenny’s fidgeting hands.

Kenny froze for a split second before letting his hand be pulled away. He looked over at his friend and squeezed Stan’s hand. Stan took this to mean that it was okay and just let their intertwined hands rest in the crease their legs made between them. “I don’t want to go back to pretending,” he said solidly, “And the only relationships I’ve really been in have been flat-out attempts to distract myself from you, so, this is really all new to me too…”

“Can I ask who the other two were? The other guys you mentioned – I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.” Stan didn’t want to pry, but he really was curious.

Kenny shifted beside him, “Well, the first was an older guy I met in sophomore year. He might have been a senior or a college freshman – but it was just a one night thing at a party in North Park when I went with Cartman. The second…” he hesitated for a second, “Don’t judge me, but it was Craig. We were together for like three months before he and Tweek finally figured their shit out – but it wasn’t really anything more than friends with benefits. We were both using each other and it just sort of worked out.”

“But Craig’s such an asshole though,” Stan teased.

Kenny punched him in the arm with his free hand, “Shut up, I know. But he _looks_ my type at least, even if the personality isn’t there.”

Stan hadn’t put that last bit together until Kenny said it, but now he suddenly realized that he and Craig did have a rather similar look – dark hair, dark eyes, athletic (though Craig was now super tall, thanks to an unfair growth spurt, and a bit more lanky than Stan).

“Never thought I’d be jealous of Craig.”

“You really shouldn’t be,” Kenny said quickly. He shifted again, “I mean, it was never – the other night was so much…ugh I don’t know how to describe it.”

Stan thought he could understand though. “The other night, when you were, well, in my lap and we were making out, it was more intense than anything I’d ever felt.” He thought briefly of all the nights with Wendy where it was good but there was something just missing, and he felt like an asshole for not being satisfied with what he had. The night with him and Kenny, even though it was just kissing and a little bit of grinding friction, it was so passionate and just so much better than actual sex had been with Wendy. He started realizing it wasn’t something wrong with him, but rather that his partner was actually into it as well. When the both of you wanted the same thing, it apparently made a huge difference.

He felt Kenny’s hand start shaking, and looked up to find Kenny staring at him so intensely that it gave him goosebumps. The blonde nodded at Stan’s description, and shifted a bit closer. “That’s a good way to put it. But - are you sure you’re not just saying that? We were both pretty drunk but you were definitely worse.” Kenny sounded insecure all of a sudden, but his intense gaze never dropped.

Stan swallowed nervously, “I mean, we’re both sober now…” He leaned forward and reached up with his free hand to gently touch Kenny’s chin with his thumb, “Maybe we should make sure.”

Kenny closed the distance and their lips crashed together like two waves, and it was a softer sort of passion than the other night, but no less intense. Their hands released each other and started touching anywhere they could, exploring and teasing and caressing. Stan pushed the both of them up against the arm of their creaky bench, pulling Kenny’s legs up and over his lap so that he wasn’t quite sitting in Stan’s lap, but almost.

Kenny had snaked both of his hands beneath Stan’s layers of jacket and t-shirt to find the pale skin beneath, sending shivers down Stan’s spine as they traced the lines of his lean muscles. Stan countered by dragging his fingertips down Kenny’s neck and then breaking the kiss just long enough to plant a few kisses and gentle nips, letting his teeth graze against the tender skin of his throat.

Kenny moaned lightly at the feeling before forcing their lips back together and pushing at Stan’s lip with his tongue, asking for entrance.

Stan obliged and was quickly met with Kenny’s tongue exploring his mouth. Stan hummed into their kiss and found that Kenny really did have a sweet flavor to him beneath his usual scent of body spray and gasoline (the latter an unfortunate side effect of working at a gas station, but Stan actually enjoyed the smell of gasoline, so he never minded it). Stan cupped at Kenny’s face and used his tongue to invade Kenny’s mouth the moment the blonde’s tongue had retreated back to its own domain. He felt Kenny shift beneath him and tighten his hands around Stan’s hips, where they’d come to rest after exploring as much of his chest as he could.

Kenny sucked hard at Stan’s invading body part and the dark-haired boy couldn’t help but imagine that pull on his hardening member. He traced the inside of Kenny’s mouth and poked playfully at the blonde’s tongue. The blonde responded with another alluring moan followed by a tremble that flowed through his whole body.

Stan wanted more. He needed more contact, more of Kenny, of his friend who was somehow melting into him. He was nervous to push for more, but found that he was eager to explore a bit further below the waist, if Kenny would let him. He recognized that ripple that had torn through his friend’s body and found himself wondering if he could get Kenny to do it again.

The hand that was cupping Kenny’s face trailed slowly down his neck, and then his chest. Stan let his fingers hook on the waistband of Kenny’s black jeans and pushed his palm down lightly into the tightness of the blonde’s crotch.

Kenny gasped, his eyes fluttering open as Stan pulled away from the kiss. Stan bit at his lip before asking, “Can I keep going?”

Kenny took a full, slow breath before nodding, “If you want to…if you’re not bothered by it.”

“I want to,” Stan said truthfully. His voice sounded thick and he hoped it sounded as alluring as he’d intended it. He pressed his lips back down onto Kenny’s and sucked lightly at his bottom lip.

Stan rubbed his hand over the bulge of Kenny’s pants and felt the blonde push into his touch as much as he could considering the small space they were trying to take advantage of. He ground down his palm once more before fiddling with the tight jeans button and zipper. It took a bit longer than he’d anticipated because he was only using the one hand, not wanting to relinquish his tight hold on the blonde’s hip with the other.

The blonde was wearing soft cotton boxers that Stan didn’t bother to look down at. He still had Kenny’s lips locked in an increasingly aggressive kiss. He felt around for the little front button of the undershorts and finally found it and got it free much quicker than he had with the jeans. He released Kenny’s stiff erection from its confines out into the cold winter air, and gently grabbed it, covering it almost completely with his hand.

“Ah!” Kenny let out at the feel of Stan’s tightening grip. He’d broken apart from the kiss and was now pressing his forehead into Stanley’s shoulder. He was breathing hard and grabbing tightly around Stan’s middle section.

Stan breathed slowly past Kenny’s ear and slowly tightened his grip. It was a weird sensation considering he’d only ever jerked himself off before, but it wasn’t long until he got the hang of the different method. Kenny’s member was hot and twitching and when he pressed down lightly on the head of it, Kenny squirmed in a lithe and intoxicating way that made Stan want to take of the rest of his clothes off and see every inch of him.

Kenny was gripping tight into Stan’s sides, fingernails digging into flesh, and trying his hardest not to thrust his hips wildly into Stan’s grip to bring about his release quicker. Stan could feel just how hard he was restraining himself – wanting this to last longer. Stan gripped a little tighter and pumped his hand as hard as he could. He wanted to make the blonde feel good, wanted to give him as much as he could. He hated the thought of having made his friend spend all these years in silence, pushing him towards other people just to get some sort of relief, physically if not emotionally.

“Fuck,” Kenny breathed as Stan worked his erection towards a climax, “Uhn – you have no i-idea how badly I wa-ant you to fuck me ri-ight now.” His voice was broken up in need and pleasure, as he clung to the dark-haired boy. He bit into Stan’s shoulder, the fabric of his jacket muffling the following moans and cries of pleasure.

His words made Stan’s erection twitch, a cry for attention that it wasn’t getting. The dark-haired boy kept up his assault on the blonde’s member until he finally felt Kenny’s body practically convulse with pleasure, evidence of his orgasm all over Stan’s hand – which had managed to catch most of it.

Kenny was breathing heavy into Stan’s neck, occasionally placing a gentle bite there because words seemed overrated at the moment. He’d gotten his over-stimulated member put back away into his boxers but hadn’t bothered to try to fix up his jeans yet.

But Stan kept hearing Kenny’s previous admission echoing through his head. He shifted, keeping his hold on Kenny’s waist, but letting his cum-covered hand pull away so he wouldn’t get any on either of their clothes – he could clean it off in the snow later. Stan could feel his own member throbbing and aching for comfort, but didn’t care. Feeling the blonde holding onto him as if he were the only thing tethering him to reality, made up for his neediness. His friend, reeling from his sensory overload and breathing heavy breaths into his neck, was more than enough to make up for it. The blonde was using Stan to keep himself grounded, and he’d never felt so wanted, so needed than in that exact moment.

He leaned his head against Kenny’s blonde head and was suddenly desperate not to part from his friend, from this feeling of actually truly being wanted. “My dad went out tonight with the guys so he probably won’t be home until super late if you wanted to come over.” The moment he made the offer though he thought back to Kenny’s words again and got flustered. “I don’t mean we have to – Christ, I just meant we don’t have to stay out here in the cold if we want to keep hanging out.”

Kenny laughed and pulled away from Stan’s neck and moved so he was actually straddling Stan’s lap (Stan thought back to the hazy memory and the succulent way Kenny said _Don’t tempt me_ ), the button and fly of his jeans still undone and opened wide. “I just begged you to fuck me while in the throes of ecstasy because you were jacking me off – you don’t need to be shy about asking me back to your place.” One of Kenny’s hands trailed down Stan’s torso and ended up pressing lightly into his bulge.

Stan squirmed beneath him and held back a needy sound that tried to claw its way into his throat. “Yes, but I didn’t want to hold you to that. I just don’t want you to leave,” Stan admitted. He knew how sappy and stupid he sounded but he meant it. He wanted more of this, whatever they were now. Wanted the blonde’s company, companionship. Needed it, really. This whole week he’d been a tangle of nerves and anxiety and now he was feeling better than he had in a long time.

Kenny froze for a moment, his sarcastic and confident façade hitting a wall and glitching out for a moment before he could regain his composure. It had been quick but there was a flash of something soft that passed through his blue eyes. The hand that wasn’t currently resting on Stan’s erection grabbed tighter to his jacket sleeve. “Lets go back you yours, then. Too many people at my house – I don’t give a shit about anyone else, but I share a wall with my sister, and I really don’t want to hold myself back after finally…” he waved away the rest of his thoughts and then grabbed one of Stan’s hands and used it to steady himself as he carefully removed himself from the dark-haired boy’s lap.

Stan let himself be led away, back to the parking lot where they’d left the car. Kenny’s hand was rough and surprisingly large, but it felt solid and warm in his hand.

When they got to the car and Stan finally got the keys out of the pocket of his jeans, he looked up in time to see Kenny push him playfully back against the car. The blonde wound his hands into the fabric of his jacket and used it as leverage to pull them into another kiss. This one quick, warm, to the point. “Thank god you live close by,” he whispered playfully into Stan’s ear, “I wanted to jump you right there on that bench the moment you touched me.”

Stan didn’t really know what to say that his blushing cheeks hadn’t already conveyed. So instead of words he pulled Kenny by the face back into another kiss. Another new one – something tender and careful and agonizingly, wonderfully slow. Intense for different reasons than all the others. It was a promise that they had as much time as they wanted, a salve to ease the tension and the practically painful need they both felt. Something to hold them over for the few minutes it would take Stan to drive them the couple blocks over to his house. Stan could feel Kenny’s heart pulsing like a bass in a club song, could feel how tightly he was holding onto his jacket, could feel the slight tremble of his lips as they worked slowly against each other.

After about a minute Kenny pushed an impatient knee deliberately into Stan’s crotch and smiled into the kiss as the dark-haired boy moaned in surprise.

“Sorry,” Kenny said not sounding apologetic at all, “Lets go?”

Stan nodded and went for the keys that had dropped to the ground when he’d been pushed back.

The drive back didn’t last more than three minutes. Kenny fidgeted with the radio until he found a song he liked enough to mumble along to, all the while keeping one hand wrapped around Stan’s wrist, forcing the other boy to drive with just the one hand. Stan liked the weight of it there, loose but wrapped around him like a bracelet.

They pulled into the garage of Stan’s house and Kenny practically launched himself out of the car. He was on Stan’s side of the car before Stan could even open the door and pulled his friend from the vehicle.

They seemed to just teleport to Stan’s room, because he really couldn’t remember more than being pulled from his dad’s car and then pushed a bit roughly onto his own bed. He propped himself up as Kenny started pulling off his shoes, and then proceeded to unfasten and yank at Stan’s jeans, finally releasing him from the tightened confines. Stan sat up a bit and got himself out of his jacket as Kenny settled himself standing between Stan’s dangling legs. He pulled his work vest off and then tore his hoodie off over his head. His shirt had come with it, leaving him bare chested in front of the dark-haired boy, jeans still unfastened to show his boxers, a rather tempting invitation despite Stan already having explored down their a bit earlier.

Once Stan’s shirt was off, Kenny pushed his torso back down on the bed with a cold hand and kneeled into the bed, the blonde’s knee pressing against Stan’s re-engorged erection tenting obviously through his tight boxer briefs. Kenny leaned his whole body forward but couldn’t quite reach Stan’s face, so he planted a few messy kisses on the dark-haired boy’s chest and made a trail of them down his abdomen, hands pressing deep into the mattress and blankets on either side of Stan.

Stan ran his fingers through Kenny’s hair and focused on the feel of Kenny’s hot tongue all over his upper body.

Finally done sampling Stan’s chest, Kenny’s head leaned down to the dark-haired boy’s erection, close enough for Stan to feel his breath through the thin fabric of his tight underwear. One of the blonde’s hands pulled playfully at the elastic waistband of the dark blue garment, but didn’t actually tear it down. Instead his head dipped down that last bit and wrapped his kiss-swollen lips around the covered head of Stan’s member.

The touch and the heat made Stan’s toes curl. He propped himself up a little on his elbows, wanting to see exactly what Kenny was doing to him.

Kenny looked up, blue eyes looking wild and playful, his mouth still wrapped around the clothed head of his friend’s erection. He used his tongue to press and drag on the underside of it and sank his lips down further.

Stan found himself saying Kenny’s name impatiently and felt the blonde laugh around his dick, the vibrations doing something crazy to his nerves. Kenny lifted his head back up and let both hands slide slowly down Stan’s hips, leaving the boxer-briefs where they were, and then slipping his hands up through the tight fabric around his thighs, and pulled them teasingly down from there. The feel of the elastic dragging down his tender flesh felt almost painful, until he was suddenly free and Kenny’s damp mouth came down in full force around him, and the pain was forgotten.

Stan couldn’t hold back the strangled moan that tore through his throat. He gripped hard at Kenny’s blonde hair, the longer messy length perfect for winding his fingers into. The blonde hummed as he sucked harder, starting his lips down at the base and pulling his lips upward, using his tongue to poke and prod at the sensitive underside of Stan’s cock.

“Jeesus, you’re good at this,” Stan moaned.

He could feel Kenny smile around his dick and then bob back down to keep going. One of Kenny’s hands that had been gripping at Stan’s hips pulled away and Stan saw it disappear behind the blonde and dip into the waistband of his own boxers. Stan realized that Kenny’s jeans had disappeared at some point while he was distracted.

Stan propped himself up on one arm and reached around to grab at the back of Kenny’s thigh. When Kenny’s mouth came off of him to look up to see what was happening, Stan shifted the both of them so that they were further on the bed.

“I have lube and condoms in my dresser,” he offered.

Kenny scooted himself further onto the bed and made himself comfortable kneeling between Stan’s legs. He gripped Stan’s member in one hand and brought the other back to the dark-haired boy’s abdomen. He bit at his lip before answering, “I’m clean, so we don’t need condoms – I hate how they feel so I make sure to get checked pretty often…and…”

Stan looked at him, waiting for him to finish.

“Well,” Kenny said sounding a mixture of frustrated and embarrassed, “I’d rather not use the lube either…I just want it to be you.”

If Stan hadn’t been hard already, he definitely would have been now.

He grabbed Kenny around each of his thighs and pulled him all the way into his lap. Kenny had to let go of Stan’s erection to stabilize himself against Stan’s shoulder. Stan missed the warmth of the hold, but didn’t mind it much. He slid his hands further up Kenny’s thighs and around to grip at his ass, which was firm but surprisingly plump beneath his splayed fingers.

Kenny let out a throaty sound and bit at his lip again as Stan looked up at his flushed face. His hands kneaded firmly at the tight flesh over the loose fabric of the blonde’s boxers and then traced a light finger down his crack. Stan was nervous but he wanted this, wanted to do this for Kenny, because of him.

“Let me.” It wasn’t a question, though if Kenny had told him no, he wouldn’t force the matter. One of his fingers found his puckered entrance and lightly pressed on it, just to show the blonde that he was serious about wanting to do this for him.

The blonde sucked in a hard breath at the touch and Stan felt his cheeks clench in response. “A-are you sure? If it’s too gross, you don’t have – “

Stan cut him off with another well-timed _press_. “Nothing about this is gross…I want to.”

Kenny leaned forward and kissed Stan hard, grinding his clothed semi-arousal against Stan’s bare, bobbing erection. He pulled his lips away and pressed his forehead against Stan’s, still grinding his hips lightly. “Fuck – this…you…its too fucking good to be real.”

Stan gripped the blonde’s ass hard and thrust his hips upward to find some friction. “I’m right here. I’m real, and you’re real,” Stan assured him.

“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long. Imagined _this_ every time I…I’ve just accepted that I’m not supposed to get what I want,” Kenny’s voice was trembling and his eyes were clenched shut.

Stan swallowed hard and pressed a chaste kiss to Kenny’s lips and then moved one of his hands from the blonde’s ass to cup at his chin. He dragged his thumb down Kenny’s bottom lip leaned his forehead back to Kenny’s. “Let me prove you wrong. Let me give you what you want. Just tell me what and I’ll give it to you.”

Kenny shivered. “I want,” he hesitated, his voice still shaky. His hands gripped tighter onto Stan’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the muscles there. Stan moved his arms to hold him around the middle, just hugging him until he felt he could continue. A few long minutes passed before Kenny spoke again, and it was a whisper, as if he was still afraid what he wanted wasn’t okay. “All I know is that, at the moment, I want you to fuck me until I’m a useless mess.”

“I’ll certainly try,” Stan replied.

The dark-haired boy used all the strength he could muster and flipped the blonde, so that their positions were reversed. Stan leaned possessively over the blonde, who looked a little startled, and a little less insecure. Stan bent down and let their lips connect for the umpteenth time that night as he pulled down Kenny’s loose boxers. He pulled them completely off of his friend and threw them carelessly across the room.

Stan sat up, kneeling between Kenny’s legs, which had pulled up in a futile attempt to hide his nakedness. He pushed one of Kenny’s knees to the side to reveal all of his friend’s secret places. Stan dragged a hand up the underside of Kenny’s pale thigh and grabbed at the bend of his knee. He then brought his free hand up to his mouth and sucked hard on his index and middle fingers, trying to get as much saliva on them as possible. He made a bit of a show of it, liking the way the blonde stared at him with that hungry look that had returned. Stan noticed that Kenny’s erection got a little stiffer.

With one last run of his tongue over his fingers, Stan pulled them away from his mouth.

He heard Kenny swallow hard and watched his blue eyes follow his fingers as they lowered to the small space between them. Stan pushed Kenny’s leg upward via his hold on the bend of the blonde’s knee, which raised Kenny’s ass a little bit further off the bed and helped spread his cheeks so that his entrance was more exposed.

Stan only had one night of drunken past experience to draw from, which had ended up in Wendy whining for him to stop because she’d suddenly changed her mind about the whole thing, even thought it was her idea to begin with. He felt mildly worried that he might mess something up.

He pressed one of his spit-slick fingers to Kenny’s asshole before circling the area. He felt Kenny flinch reflexively, but noticed that he was watching Stan intensely, lip nearly white from how hard he was biting it. Stan gripped tighter at his hold on Kenny’s knee and slowly pushed his finger inside.

Kenny let out along breath that made Stan realize he’d been holding his own, and finally released his lower lip from his teeth.

“Just let me know if I’m hurting you,” Stan said quietly, as he eased his finger deeper inside of the blonde, wriggling gently around trying to loosen up enough space for his second finger to fit.

Kenny nodded, his eyes closed, breath coming out in pants.

Stan bent down to kiss at the tender skin of Kenny’s thigh, just below where he was holding him up. He sucked and bit teasingly at the pale area, all the while pushing himself deeper into the blonde’s body.

Kenny was tight and burning hot inside, but Stan could feel his muscles loosening up quickly for his intruding finger. Once his middle finger was as far inside of his friend as it could go, he wriggled it around and slowly started pulling and pushing it in small movements, familiarizing himself with the new territory while also trying to find Kenny’s sweet spot. He knew the prostate was somewhere, and wanted to find it for himself instead of having the blonde give him directions. He was the one that asked to do this after all.

Kenny let out a small moan and reached out to grab at his knee where Stan’s hand was. His fingertips grazed Stan’s wrist. “You can put another one in,” his voice was thick and Stan was glad to see that he wasn’t hating whatever Stan was doing (he was just winging it really).

“I’m getting there,” Stan smiled, punctuating his words with a quicker a push with his finger.

“Uhn,” was all Kenny could manage.

Stan started pushing and pulling with more force, more confidence now that Kenny was feeling good. He eventually pulled his first finger out completely, and lined up the second one with it at the entrance. He pushed in without saying what he was doing and felt Kenny’s muscles react before the rest of him. Kenny’s whole body seemed to ripple, starting from Stan’s new addition to his friend’s body and ending with the curling of his toes and the tightening of his fingers. Kenny’s ass clenched down onto him initially, but quickly let him move forward, almost sucking him in faster.

Stan’s second finger slipped in all the way much faster than the first one, and it wasn’t more than a minute until Stan could repeatedly push them in and out without much resistance. Kenny was squirming, his hips shifting back and forth, his one hand now holding tightly onto Stan’s wrist, while the other one wound into Stan’s navy blue blanket that topped the bed. Stan started spreading his fingers apart, eliciting a few more moans from the blonde in the process, and when he curled his fingers upward, he’d finally found what he’d been looking for.

The dark-haired boy smiled to himself as he watched Kenny’s back arch as Stan’s fingers finally found his prostate. “Fuck,” the blonde sighed, his eyes closing, his breath hitching.

“I was looking for that,” Stan mused, making a mental note to himself where to find it by prodding at it purposefully once again.

Kenny let out an unbelievably cute whine in reaction, bucking his hips upwards in the process. Stan saw his dick twitch appealingly. It gave him an idea.

Stan placed a wet kiss into the bend of Kenny’s knee before shifting his whole leg upwards to rest on Stan’s shoulder. “You said I could make a mess of you, right?” He used his now-free hand to grab onto Kenny’s re-hardened erection while placing a well-timed nudge into the blonde’s prostate.

Kenny’s body shook and his blue eyes searched for Stan’s. “ _Please_ ,” he begged, his anal muscles clamping down hard on Stan’s exploring fingers.

Stan smiled and kept constant eye contact with his friend as he started finger-fucking him with full force while also using his left hand to fondle and toy with his leaking dick, which was still probably over-sensitive considering he’d already orgasmed a mere twenty minutes before this. He was going to need lubricant of some kind, and just having Kenny suck his dick again before getting to the main event seemed too easy. Kenny wanted to be made into a mess, and this seemed a good way to start.

The blonde was making a constant stream of throaty noises as Stan repeatedly grazed his prostate with every inward thrust. He wasn’t just going in and out, but rather in a weird circular motion. Down and in, then up against his prostate and out, feeling his fingertips lightly touch the sensitive area with almost each pulling-out motion. Stan was hoping this was helping to stretch him further out as well as blatantly attack his prostate – Stan knew he didn’t have a huge dick, but Kenny was so _tight_ that he didn’t want to risk hurting him. While he was doing this, his left and more clumsy hand was gripping firmly onto Kenny’s dick, thumb grinding lightly down onto the sticky, sensitive head, beads of pre-cum leaking out and being rubbed into Stan’s thumb and the blonde’s cock.

“Stan,” Kenny pleaded, “More – I want – _Nnh_ – more of you.”

Stan bit playfully into Kenny’s calf since it was right there resting on his shoulder. “Cum for me then,” Stan situated his own throbbing, yet dry, erection against Kenny’s and started thrusting his hips forward while holding both of their members in his hand. It was an awkward angle considering he still had his fingers shoved as far into the blonde’s ass as he could, but he made it work. He really did want to obey Kenny’s pleas for more – he wanted so badly to push himself into the blonde and feel that sweltering heat wrapped around his dick. He wanted that friction, that pleasure – but Stan was making himself be patient. It had been at least a year since he’d had sex, and was worried he wouldn’t last very long – so he wanted to make sure that Kenny got what he wanted first.

Kenny let out an undecipherable collection of syllables. His back was arching and his hips were thrashing. Stan held their dicks loosely together as he thrust himself against the blonde, his own member excited to finally be getting some attention again. His fingers pushed as far inside Kenny as they would go and he used both finger tips to rub and press down a bit more roughly on his over-stimulated prostate.

Kenny came harder this time than before, making a mess all over Stan’s hand, both their dicks, and his stomach. His blue eyes were hazy, his chest heaving, his hands gripping tightly at the bedspread. Stan hoped he hadn’t worn his friend out all ready.

Stan pulled his fingers gently out from the blonde’s ass and watched as this sent a pleasure aftershock through Kenny’s body. The blonde moved his leg off of Stan’s shoulder and let it relax. He lifted himself a bit weakly and reached for Stan. Stan came forward to meet him, careful not to wipe his messy hands on the blankets – he needed some of that mess, if he was going to be able to continue. Kenny wrapped his arms around Stan’s neck and pulled him down so that he was laying completely on top of him.

“You okay?” Stan asked slowly.

“Fuck you,” Kenny panted, still out of breath. “ _Cum for me_ – fucking asshole,” he mocked but not bitterly. “Will you just fuck me already?”

Stan smiled and sucked at an earlobe, “I just wanted to make sure I was doing everything right.”

“Fuck you,” he repeated.

Stan got back onto his knees and used his jizz-covered hand to wipe up as much of Kenny’s mess as he could, before proceeding to smear it all off on his own dick. He felt Kenny’s eyes boring into him, watching his every move. The dark-haired boy got himself into position. He leaned dominantly over his friend, one hand digging into the bed by Kenny’s ribs while the other he used to direct his dick towards his friend’s stretched and reddened hole.

Kenny wrapped his legs around Stan’s waist, scooting himself close.

Stan pressed himself against Kenny’s entrance, but hesitated.

The blonde reached up and grabbed loosely at Stan’s neck. That hungry look was back. “You don’t have to be so careful,” Kenny was biting his bottom lip again.

“You’re so impatient,” Stan scolded, but not with any real complaint. “It’s mostly for my own sanity, you know.”

“Sanity is overrated,” Kenny quipped back. He pulled himself up using Stan’s neck and took a break from biting his lip to biting at Stan’s. It was gentle, but he pulled at it and Stan thought there might be teeth marks there. The thought didn’t bother him. Stan leaned forward to steal a kiss before Kenny laid all the way back down, and used this as a distraction to slowly _push_ himself forward.

Kenny sucked in a hard breath at the new invasion, stealing all the air from Stan’s lungs in the process.

“Jesus,” Stan moaned as Kenny’s ass pulled him slowly into its tightness. Stan couldn’t help but push a bit faster than he’d anticipated, the friction fucking glorious and that heat – Christ that heat made him feel like he was melting. For a moment the whole world was gone and it was just the hot sensation wrapped around his needy, attention-starved dick.

“Stan – ah ~” Kenny’s sensual voice calling his name out brought everything back to him. Stan had buried himself inside his friend as far as physically possible – before the thrusting at least – and Kenny was suddenly pulling him downward, pulling tight at the dark-haired boy’s neck.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Stan whispered into Kenny’s ear as the blonde clung to him.

“Hurry,” Kenny moaned. His hips were shifting back and forth, as if trying to pull Stan inside of him further.

Stan moved both his hands to grip at Kenny’s boney hips to brace himself and keep the blonde still for a moment as he adjusted. God, that tightness was better than anything he’d felt before and every little movement set his whole body on fire. In slow increments he moved himself back and then forward, each time trying to figure out the right rhythm. He thrust a bit more upward and finally found it again.

“Shit,” Kenny cried out as Stan hit his previously abused prostate.

Stan placed a sloppy kiss on the blonde’s neck. “Found it,” he hummed.

Stan pulled a bit away, tightening his grip on the blonde boy’s hips, and pushed himself in again, harder this time, trying to hit Kenny’s special spot again. It took him a few more tries, finding that it was easier to get to with his fingers than his dick.

Kenny’s hands shifted to grab onto Stan’s shoulders, his fingers once again digging into the flesh there. He was definitely going to have fingernail marks and scratches all over tomorrow, but that made him oddly excited. Proof that this was real and happening and _Jesus –_ Stan had finally hit Kenny’s prostate again, and the blonde’s ass clenched so tightly around Stan’s dick that he started seeing holes in his vision.

Stan suddenly couldn’t take how slow he’d been going. He needed more of that – to feel how deep he could go. He pulled Kenny’s body down onto his next thrust using the tight grip he had on the boy’s hips, and felt Kenny convulse around him. The blonde let out a startled sound of pleasure and managed to get out a needy, strangled, “More,” before losing the words to more unintelligible things.

Stan pulsed hard in and out of his friend, pulling the blonde’s body down onto him with every inward movement. He couldn’t think straight, his body and brain were all telling him _more_ and _harder_ and _faster_ because that friction, that tightness, that hot damp heat was all that mattered. He could hear Kenny’s constant stream of sounds and expletives that reassured him that this was just as okay for him as it was for Stan. He could feel Kenny purposefully clenching, as if trying to trap him inside or fight the dominating body part, which made the friction just that much better.

The black-haired boy was losing his momentum though and needed to adjust his position. Stan gripped the blonde a bit further up his sides and lifted him up, once again into his lap, this time impaling him on his pulsing cock. Kenny cried out as his full body weight sank down on Stan’s member, and instinctively started bouncing himself up and down Stan’s length.

Stan definitely didn’t mind this new position – the way Kenny’s hips were so lithe and that way that they ground down hard onto him – but it wasn’t what he’d been going for. He could feel just how experienced Kenny was at this, and it felt great, but Stan wanted this – their first time of hopefully more – to be about Kenny. Stan wanted to do the heavy lifting, so to speak. He wanted to spoil his friend, especially since finding out how badly he’d been wanting this and for so long.

“Turn around?” Stan asked, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t mind another position change. “I can go harder that way.”

Kenny sank down hard on Stan and leaned into his ear, “Hard as you can.” It was an order whispered in the most erotic way Stan could imagine. An order he would try his damnedest to follow through on.

Stan lifted the blonde by the ass cheeks off of his erection and tossed him back down onto the bed. He twisted him around, a very ungraceful and rushed job, and then dragged him to the edge of the bed. Stan stood on one leg while kneeling the other onto the edge of his bed and pulled Kenny by the hips back into place, aligning his reddened gaping hole with his twitching member and pushing back into him with as much force as he could muster.

The blonde cried out as Stan pounded into him, filled him, dominated him. Stan felt very close to his edge. He kept his tight hold on Kenny’s hips, this time it was his fingers digging into the light, lean flesh. He was the one leaving marks. He yanked the blonde hard into every one of his thrusts. He was going as fast as he could while still keeping his force at full strength.

“Sorry – I’m close,” Stan warned. “If I slow down – I can – last longer.”

A soft whine came from Kenny’s throat, and he pushed himself back onto Stan’s retreating member. “No – keep going. I want you to cum inside me.” There was no hesitation saying what he wanted this time. No embarrassment. They were beyond that at this point. The pleasure and the need had taken over their brains.

Stan breathed heavy, hard breaths as he kept up his full-forced assault, feeling his climax approaching fast. He stabilized himself and Kenny by wrapping one of his arms around his middle and keeping the other attached tight to the blonde’s hip. The moment he felt that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, he lifted Kenny and pulled him hard down onto his orgasming dick. He pulled the blonde up to his chest, sliding his other hand from his hip up his heaving chest to grab at his shoulder. His whole body burst as the feeling of ecstasy engulfed his entire body, his existence.

“Fuck,” Stan breathed into the side of Kenny’s neck. He kept the blonde there in his lap, feeling his ass clenching around his spent erection, feeling the heat of his cum mixing in with the dampness inside of the blonde, feeling Kenny breathing and shifting on top of him. “God, Kenny,” Stan couldn’t put any of what he was feeling into words.

Kenny made a sound at the back of his throat and grabbed Stan’s arm that was wrapped tightly around his middle. He pulled the hand a bit down, where Stan found that the blonde was hard again. “I’m close again,” he said in a needy whine.

“You have some great stamina,” Stan said taking the blonde’s arousal in his hand, squeezing gently.

Kenny’s head shook, “Never been able to get three in such a short time though…that’s what you do to me.”

Stan shifted beneath the blonde, adjusting his softening member that was still plunged deep inside Kenny. The blonde’s back arched against Stan’s chest at the movement. They were both still breathing hard. Stan started jerking Kenny off again. “How do you want me?”

“Stay inside – Christ, you came so much,” Kenny squirmed in friend’s lap. There was an erotic squelching sound because of it, and Stan felt Kenny’s dick throb hard in time with the sound.

Stan hummed into his neck as he kept up a steady rhythm with his hand. “I’ve filled you up, I think,” he teased. “You’re so tight, I didn’t last very long.” Stan pulled the blonde down via his grasp on his shoulder, down onto his over-sensitive member. The stimulation hurt a bit but it made Kenny’s back arch again so Stan ignored the discomfort.

Kenny stirred his hips as Stan upped his tempo with his hand. He was writhing non-stop with pleasure, his ass muscles spasming like crazy. Stan bit at Kenny’s neck to keep from making any sounds of pain at the excessive movement on his tender cock.

Suddenly Kenny was grabbing at Stan’s hand on his shoulder and moving it over. The blonde placed it over his neck and gave it a squeeze.

Stan understood the non-verbal directions. He laved his tongue over the bite marks he undoubtedly left on the blonde’s neck, and grabbed forcefully at Kenny’s throat. The blonde let out a chocked moan and clenched hard at Stan’s softening cock. Stan squeezed the blonde’s dick and throat at the same time and heard him moan the loudest he’d been all night as he came for the third time in the past hour or so.

Stan immediately let go of the blonde’s throat, and slid it down to the center of his chest to catch a hold of him. Kenny’s body seemed to unwind as he collapsed back into Stan’s grasp. They were both a mess, as Stan clumsily guided their bodies to lay down on his bed. The bedding was now stained with both of their cum, as Stan had finally, gently, slowly pulled himself from Kenny’s heaving body, the cum that had been stoppered up inside of him now dribbling out.

Stan pulled his friend close to him, one arm propping up Kenny’s head, the other resting on his hip, thumb grazing gently over the fingernail marks he’d left there. He was still reeling from the experience, the passion, the need, the erotic feeling of power not just in the act of holding onto Kenny’s throat like that but from all of it. The fact that Kenny trusted him completely with all of it. With his needs and wants and fears. Kenny had given him the power to control the situation – a new sensation for him, considering he had always been at the mercy of Wendy’s power over him.

She had abused that power, and suddenly he hoped that he hadn’t done the same for his friend.

He looked down, about to see how Kenny was doing when he was met with his eyes staring up at him already. They looked nervous.

“Sorry if the choking was a bit much…I didn’t realize I liked it until suddenly I wanted it…” Kenny muttered. He slowly reached a hand up and touched at his neck, finding the reddened spot where Stan had been biting earlier.

Stan smiled softly and admitted, “I definitely didn’t hate it…I was never really the one with the control before.”

“The opposite is kinda true for me – I usually don’t give anyone the chance to control the situation like that. Even when I bottom, I’m usually the one controlling how things progress.”

“Do you like both then?” Stan asked. It had actually surprised him a bit when Kenny seemed so eager to be the one receiving – he’d always had the opposite impression before this past week happened.

“Yeah I can alternate. It usually just depends on my partner or the mood I’m in,” Kenny explained. Stan stayed silent for a minute, contemplating how he’d feel about trying it out, when Kenny continued. “With you though, I’ve always wanted you to be the one topping…You were always the leader, the cool one and somehow that always transferred over to my fantasies.”

“Really?” Stan asked. He had never really felt like “the cool one” and was kind of happy that Kenny thought he was cool. He’d always thought that Kenny had been the coolest – hell, everyone did.

The blonde nodded, “In fifth grade I had my first wet dream and it was about you – it freaked me the fuck out. I got really into porn after that trying to fix myself but eventually I figured out that I was just attracted to both girls and guys. I probably had a crush on you back then, but didn’t really know what it was. You were just different somehow and I didn’t mind it.”

Stan listened, not really sure how to respond or even if he should. He stroked absently at Kenny’s hip until something popped up in his head. “What was the dream about? I never got wet dreams until way later. I was definitely a late bloomer in that aspect. I always had crushes…well, one crush…but I didn’t really know what to do about it. The moment things got serious, everything just went bad and kept getting worse.”

Kenny smiled a little, “It was a nice dream actually – very tame considering my fucked up imagination and early obsession with boobs. It was just us playing at your house, some game I can’t even remember, then Cartman showed up and got mad that we hadn’t invited him and dared us to go make out in your closet. I didn’t even know what making out meant then, except that it was kissing but more serious or something so we just ended up sitting across from each other in your closet and kissing and laughing about the whole thing for a while. When I woke up there was a mess and Kevin caught me trying to do laundry to hide the evidence and started ragging on me for having sex dreams already, even though he’s only two years older than me and always seemed to be jacking off even when he was my age at the time. He asked about what kind of girl was in the dream and I suddenly realized that it was definitely weird to have them about your friends.”

“Kevin’s an ass,” Stan added out of habit. “That is a cute dream though.”

Kenny gave him a seductive look that was probably only meant jokingly, but it still gave Stan chills. “We just have to fuck in your closet next and it’ll be a dream come true.”

“I’ll make a mental note of it,” Stan teased back.

Kenny shifted and pulled his eyes slightly down to break the eye contact. “What you said earlier – about you wanting to give me what I want…this isn’t just happening because you feel bad for me or some shit, right?” Stan could hear the unease that had creeped back into his friend’s voice. “Just because I have these feelings doesn’t mean you have to – “

“You’re my best friend, Kenny, and I fucking love you,” Stan said with a bit more force than he’d intended, “I wouldn’t be doing this to you or to myself if I didn’t want to, didn’t like it, didn’t want to see where this could go, or what it could be. My love might be different from what you feel, but that doesn’t mean it can’t change at some point.”

Kenny’s eyes re-connected with Stan’s. “Please say that first part again.”

“What – that you’re my best friend?” Stan asked teasingly.

“Fuck you,” Kenny quipped back.

“We already did that,” Stan smiled. When Kenny just looked at him pleadingly in silence, he finally gave in. “I fucking love you Kenny.”

Kenny sucked in a shaky breath. “Fuck – I love you…I’ve been in love with you since eighth fucking grade when we had to go to that stupid homecoming dance and we spent the entire night drinking and laughing in the locker room and drunk ass you started dancing to a stupid slow song you liked and dragged me into it, and drunk ass me realized how badly I wanted to kiss you right there in the gross boys locker room. It scared me so bad that I dropped that bottle of pure poison we’d stolen from my dad and we had to run from the teachers who may or may not have actually heard the noise. The way you smiled at me later when we had successfully escaped made me realize I was fucking done and there was no going back to ignoring it after that.” Kenny rambled everything seemingly in one breath.

After a moment of drinking everything in, Stan moved his hand from Kenny’s marked up hip to wind into his lanky blonde hair. “That was a few months before you came out to us,” Stan thought aloud. He remembered the night in question, remembered how awkward that dance had been, how much more fun it had gotten when Kenny revealed the bottle of cheap vodka he’d taken from his dad’s not so secure stash. He remembered trying to get Kenny to dance with him – a guilty pleasure love song had come on and he knew Kenny wouldn’t mock him too badly for liking it. He’d been dancing much too fast for the slow paced song. He’d reached a hand out to Kenny and then suddenly all he remembered was hearing the glass bottle shatter and grabbing Kenny’s collared shirt sleeve and booking it, laughing all the way off school property.

Kenny nodded. “I had kind of known that I liked more than girls a bit before that, but realizing that it was you I was feeling that way about, that shook me and I decided to just rip the band-aid off and tell you – except when I’d tried to get you alone to talk, the guys ended up tagging along because Kyle overheard me say it was something serious, and he’d convinced himself that it was supposed to be a group meeting and I just went with it and told all you guys and kept the last bit to myself.

“Your reaction scared me a bit, because you didn’t really say anything. I was worried that I’d messed up by saying anything but then the next day you treated me the exact same way as always, and we still joked around and fucked with each other, and drank together and I convinced myself that that was all I could hope for and tried to just, move on…” Kenny closed his eyes and leaned into Stan’s hand that had stopped fiddling with his hair and came to rest on his cheek.

“Sorry if my reaction was bad – I don’t remember if I said anything at the time or not, but all I remember now is being envious of you. You were confident enough about yourself to tell others exactly what you were because you knew. I’d never been that confident in myself before and you kind of amazed me,” Stan explained.

Kenny didn’t respond with words, but reached his hand out to grab at Stan’s waist and pulled himself into Stan’s body. They were both still naked, and Kenny’s body felt like it was on fire, but Stan thought the heat was comforting. The blonde nestled into Stan and the black-haired boy held him there as tight as he could.

At some point they did break apart – but just long enough to throw the dirtied blanket off the bed and throw on some underwear before crawling beneath the covers again. Stan pulled Kenny back into himself and buried his face into the top of his blonde, unkempt hair. “Sleep?” he offered. His eyes were getting heavy and the comfortable atmosphere and the silence was starting to weigh his consciousness down.

Kenny hummed a nonverbal agreement and it wasn’t long before they were both dead to the world

Kenny woke to soft, muffled snores and the comfortable weight of an arm draped over his abdomen. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know where he was. He’d woken up in Stan’s bed hundreds of times by now – after childhood sleepovers where the four of them would all try to cram onto the one bed, after long drunken nights of talking and hanging out, after those bad nights of patching up cuts and icing blackened eyes and bruises. He had always been welcomed here, no questions asked, Stan’s parents never seeming to mind that they’d had one extra person there in the morning than they had when they’d locked the doors for the night.

So, no, waking up half-naked in Stan’s bed wasn’t a rare occurrence by any means, but after last night…after everything.

Ken opened his eyes slowly and stared up at the ceiling. The room hadn’t changed a bit since the last morning he’d woken up here about a month or two ago – it had been one of the latter scenarios, him barging in through Stan’s window with a split lip and a couple gnarly bruises on his arm where his asshat dad had grabbed him and threw him into a wall. The room was the same, but Kenny knew that he wasn’t. That Stan wouldn’t be. They were something new now, something _together_. It was exhilarating but also extremely terrifying.

And last night – Jesus, Kenny had never dared think it would happen in real life, that he’d just have to fantasize about his friend forever until he finally moved on, but, Christ, Stan was sleeping right there next to him after everything and that meant that this was definitely real. Definitely happening. And it had been somehow better than he’d ever imagined. His dreams could never give him that level of detail. He hadn’t known how gentle Stan’s hands could be, how intoxicating his touch was. He’d always fantasized that his obsessive tendencies would come out during sex, but he hadn’t been prepared for just how generous a lover the dark-haired boy could be. When they’d finally gotten to Stan’s bedroom, Kenny had been dying to touch and kiss and suck every inch of his friend, to take control and ride him until they both came and it had been a whole scene in his head he’d wanted to play out, but goddamn he wasn’t expecting Stan to be so _eager_.

The black-haired boy had almost immediately taken the reigns and now all Kenny could think of was that heavy voice Stan had used against him. _Let me_ and _Cum for me_ , his voice had been so seductive and somehow authoritative and it made Kenny into an obedient little boy and as much as he hated the thought, he’d fucking loved it. Stan had definitely kept his word. He’d turned Kenny into a needy obedient mess, and somehow he was still reeling from it. He’d gotten emotional in the middle of it all and talkative afterwards, which was something that Kenny never did. Didn’t allow himself to do, but somehow Stan had forced it out of him just by being there. Just by holding him close after such an intense euphoria.

But as embarrassed as he was by his little confessions and the fact that he’d actually had Stan choke him for godsake, Kenny was finding himself getting more and more anxious about his friend waking up. He had no idea what to say from here, what they were supposed to do, and now all he was thinking about was hearing Stan say that he loved him, and it made his stomach churn and flip inside of him.

He’d been pining over Stan for so damn long, that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do now that he had him. It was all new territory for him.

Stan let out a really loud snort in his sleep, but still didn’t wake up. The arm that had been draped across Kenny’s stomach this whole time shifted a bit. Stan’s hand which had previously just been idly hanging off of Kenny’s body, now slid out and hooked itself around Kenny’s waist and used the grip as leverage to pull the sleeping body closer.

Kenny couldn’t help the little smirk that settled on his lips as he watched Stan, still passed out, pull himself closer to the blonde, lifting his face out from the pillow where he’d been essentially smothering himself and bringing it to rest on Kenny’s shoulder. The blonde put an arm around the sleeping form that was now curling into him, and suddenly felt the unease in his stomach transform into a pleasant tingly sensation that Kenny refused to call “butterflies”.

This was all too new, but that definitely wasn’t a bad thing. Kenny decided that maybe he should stop thinking for a little while and close his eyes. Even if he couldn’t fall back asleep, he could at least pretend to for a while to pass the time until Stan woke up.

**Author's Note:**

> This one was a long time coming, but I'm happy with how It all worked out. This story had been sitting in laptop purgatory for at least two years, not even half written until two weeks ago when I finally got bit by my muse again. The world needs more Stenny and I hope you enjoyed my addition to the fandom.


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